And We Danced Read online

  And

  We

  Danced

  By Toni Mari

  Text copyright @ 2013 Toni Mari

  All Rights Reserved

  To my family for their support and encouragement especially Christina and Lisa. And for Grace, my technical advisor, and Lane, my moral support.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 1

  Nope. No way. Not interested. As in, never!

  The giant black horse ricocheted around the indoor riding arena. He leapt sideways, barreled forward, jerked against the reins. Whoa, was that a sliding stop? The rider held the reins tight, clearly afraid that the horse would take off again. I saw him signal the horse to walk, but the beast coiled like a spring. His muscles bulged, his eyes flew wide open, his nostrils flared. He trotted in place, bouncing off the ground and snorting. Spit splashed across his chest as he flicked his head up. If it wasn’t the dead of winter, he could be breathing fire with all the steam coming from his nose.

  I wasn’t getting anywhere near that horse. Kate said it was a Grand Prix dressage horse imported from Sweden. Supposedly it had champion bloodlines. Well, they must be breeding dragons over there in their castle dungeons.

  Dressage is ballet on horseback, precise, controlled, elegant. What I watched was not poetry in motion—it was a train wreck. A ninja fight between David and Goliath. When the guy didn’t let up on the reins, the horse started to spin sideways.

  “He’s an idiot,” Kate hissed beside me.

  “I was thinking dragon,” I whispered back.

  Kate gave me a funny look. “If I don’t put a stop to this, that poor horse is gonna …”

  My stomach lurched as I watched the horse rear straight up, pawing the air. The rider grabbed the front of the saddle, barely managing to hang on. Were they going over backward? No, no, he was coming down! Oh, crap! The horse landed, bounced a bit, and then realized the reins were loose. He burst into a gallop, nose stretched out, hooves pounding. I felt the breeze and heard his wheezing breath as he flew past me. Poor horse, my ass.

  My heart pounded and my palms were slick with sweat just thinking about going near it. “No way,” I said aloud.

  “Unbelievable,” Kate huffed. “Wonder how long this jerk will last up there?”

  The guy was listing off to the side. By pure strength, he managed to pull himself back into the saddle and regain his balance. He grabbed one rein and wrenched the horse around sideways. The black snatched at the reins, jumping up a little, but he couldn’t get loose. The instant he was still, the guy jumped off, still clutching the rein.

  With his rider on the ground, the horse just stood there, sides heaving.

  “Oh, for God’s sake. The big baby. He calls himself a trainer? I’m getting on,” Kate said.

  “No, don’t. I don’t want him. Don’t ride him, Kate. Let’s just go.”

  “Now, Jane. This could be a great horse.” And she stalked off.

  Great horse for whom? That trainer couldn’t ride him. Kate, my trainer, was probably going to get dumped. There was no way I was going to get on him. Who says I needed a new horse? I’d stick with Paddy. After all, he had gotten me this far. Last year we had qualified for Regionals at Fourth Level. So what if he was a little lazy? He was my best friend, adorable and affectionate. I had said I wanted to compete in the North American Junior Championships (NAJCs) because it sounded exciting. But Kate said I needed a new horse because Paddy didn’t have the fire to compete at that level and he couldn’t get the high scores I’d need.

  Kate walked over to the steaming horse. She took the reins from the trainer, who towered over her. The horse’s head flew up and he went running backward, butt down and feet shuffling. Kate, blonde ponytail swinging beneath her black helmet, held the reins and followed him back. Kate was small but mighty. I was taller than she was, but I definitely wasn’t braver. When the black thing realized she wasn’t fighting with him, he quit and stood looking at her, the whites of his eyes still showing and steam still waffling from his nostrils.

  “Oh, you’re fine. You’re just a big drama king.” Kate patted him on the neck with her gloved hand, clucked, and led him to the mounting block.

  “He’s having a bad day. I didn’t turn him out because you were coming, and now he’s all worked up,” Pete tried to explain, without stepping any closer to help Kate mount. He took off his helmet and ran a hand through his longish black hair. “I think he likes women better than men.”

  I didn’t understand why Pete didn’t step up to hold the horse for Kate to mount. “Do you need me to hold him for you, Kate?” I called without making any move toward her. Please say no.

  “No, it’s best if it’s just me he has to deal with. Here we go.” She stepped onto the mounting block and quickly onto the horse. Surprisingly, she left the reins hanging in loops.

  Windsong danced sideways, tossing his head, blowing air out his nose, and making loud huffing noises. Kate chuckled. “Suffering bad, are you?” She reached forward and patted his neck. At her touch, Windsong flinched and leapt forward. Magically, Kate’s reins were there to gently catch him, and instead of yanking him back to the walk, she continued to ride the canter. In fact, that crazy lady urged him forward. It looked to me like Windsong was in a flat-out gallop! Kate leaned forward, standing in the stirrups slightly above the saddle and grinning. “Woohoo! Hot dog, this bugger can run!” her voice floated back to me.

  I was standing to one side of the arena with my mouth hanging open. I walked to the three-step mounting block and sank onto the top step. I tucked my gloved hands under my thighs for warmth. I watched Kate and Windsong in the mirrors that ran the length of the arena along the top of the four-foot-high kick wall. From my sitting position, Kate glided around on thin air, Windsong was below the mirror. She eased back, lowering her seat bones into the saddle. She began to make swerving loops, changing direction often, gradually slowing Windsong to the trot. I studied her posture in the mirror. Head up, back straight, her smile radiated joy and confidence. She was completely engrossed in her task. I dropped my eyes to the horse. His delicate ears swiveled back and forth, his liquid brown eyes intent on the ground in front of him. The steam rose softly from his rippling muscles, the earlier tension gone.

  As they trotted past the doorway into the barn, I noticed a few people gathered there, watching with fascination. My gaze drifted over them and locked onto one girl, her red hair pulled back severely into a bun. My fists clenched, and I bit my lip. Freckles sprinkled her cheeks; her coat was the latest style in the catalogs. Melinda Kratz. The girl who beat me at every show we happened to be in together. Despite her attractive turnout, snootiness oozed from her. Her chin was t
ipped up and she looked down her nose at Windsong and Kate in the ring. Her pale blue eyes moved from Windsong to mine, and sprung wide open. She looked back and forth between me and Windsong. Her eyebrows flew up and her mouth formed an O. She flung her head back and laughed. She pointed to Windsong, then me and slowly turned her thumb down, shaking her head.

  I rolled my eyes, clamped my jaw shut, and jumped up. I whirled around, crossed my arms and stared at my floating head reflected in the mirror. A disheveled girl, dirt smudged on her cheek and tendrils of hair leaking out of her pony tail, stared back. Why was Melinda Kratz here, of all people? Somehow she always managed to make me feel two feet tall with one snide comment.

  Kate halted Windsong in front of me, obscuring my view. Her eyes met mine. With a small jerk of her head she called me over.

  “Are we done here?” I bit out when I was close enough for only Kate to hear me.

  “No. I want you to ride him. He’s really amazing.”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a nut. He’s too fast.” I lowered my voice more and stood on my tiptoes. “He scares me.”

  Kate look confused. She had such easy confidence with horses. Riding was like breathing to her, a necessary and natural activity. She had come close to being on the Olympic riding team when she was in her twenties but was sidelined because of an injury to her horse. Ten years later, she still rode like each horse could be her next Olympic prospect. She let the reins dangle, sitting relaxed and smiling at me. “Just try him.”

  “Do I have to? I mean, we really aren’t considering this horse, are we? Besides, Melinda’s over there and I don’t want her to see me look stupid.”

  Kate glanced over her shoulder and seemed to notice the little crowd for the first time. She got that smile on her face, the smug one she got when she came back carrying your test results at a show and you knew right away that you scored well. “Come on. Let’s show them a thing or two.” She turned Windsong and gathered the reins. One didn’t say no to Kate, so I casually followed her into the center of the ring, pointedly ignoring the people in the doorway.

  Kate talked as she rode, explaining what she was doing. Despite the bumpy ride, her voice was smooth and steady. She rode Windsong sideways in every direction, and then made him go slow and fast, changing gaits as well as speed. I could see her testing his obedience, ignoring his occasional kick or misbehavior. Pretty quickly, Windsong became collected, moving more like a trained Grand Prix horse. Kate flashed me a grin.

  With no noticeable cue from Kate, Windsong gathered his power, lowered his hindquarters, and trotted in place. The spittle dripped from his lips, his thigh muscles were hard and bulging, and the sound of his labored breathing traveled across the ring. As Windsong found a rhythm, nodding his head and lifting his legs, marching in place, Kate placed both reins in one hand and gave me a thumbs-up. It was called piaffe, and it was the most difficult movement required of a competitive dressage horse. Not many horses could do it well. The little crowd clapped in appreciation.

  Windsong shot forward in fright. Kate laughed. “You big baby,” she said as she halted him. “Come on, Jane. Let’s see you up here,” she called as she slid down the side of the horse, her arms extended straight up so that her feet could finally touch the ground before she let go.

  I blanched. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me, leaving me weak. I can’t do it. I can’t get on that horse. “Kate, I can’t,” I whispered.

  Apparently, she didn’t hear me because she led Windsong over to the mounting block. She lined him up, and then turned and noticed I hadn’t moved. I was shaking my head. She nodded her head, letting her eyes slide toward Melinda. Come on, she mouthed.

  I walked slowly, adjusting my helmet straps. I can’t. I can’t. But it was inevitable. You didn’t train with Kate and have the option to say no. I adjusted the length of the stirrups making them longer by two holes. At five foot eight, I was a good four inches taller than Kate. I tucked the straps into the little leather keepers so that they would lay flat under my legs. I took my time pulling my gloves onto wobbly hands. Finally, I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I stepped up the three steps of the mounting block.

  “Please, hold on to him. Don’t let go of me,” I whispered fiercely to Kate. I slid my left foot into the stirrup, lifted my leg, and gently lowered myself into the saddle. Kate held the bridle, stroking Windsong’s neck. He actually nosed her jacket playfully.

  I took a few deep breaths. Fake it until you make it. I picked up the reins, looked ahead, and nodded. Kate didn’t let go of the bridle and started walking. With a toss of his head, Windsong lurched after her. What! I clutched the front of the saddle and leaned forward. I tightened my legs and Windsong spun sideways. Kate stopped him, looking back at me. My face heated. I pushed myself upright, relaxing my legs. I pressed my lips together and nodded.

  Kate started off again. Windsong’s long, energetic walk strides rocked my abdomen, making me seasick. I chewed my lip and pressed my feet down into the stirrups, not letting go of the saddle yet. I was okay. He followed Kate and I was fine. I grinned. This was nothing like Paddy. I gingerly shortened the reins until they connected with his mouth. Windsong gave a little toss of his head but otherwise accepted the contact. Kate let go but kept walking right next to us. She talked me through some lateral movements at the walk, and then the trot. Windsong rolled along smoothly. He was very sensitive and I kept using too much leg and then too much hand, overcompensating. I am sure we looked like drunken clowns, staggering around the ring. I stayed within fifteen feet of Kate the whole time. After only five minutes, Kate said she had seen enough. I sagged with relief. She headed over to Pete.

  I slid off my glove and leaned forward, smoothing my hand over the velvet steel of Windsong’s neck. “Thanks, buddy, for not dumping me,” I crooned. I kicked my feet out of the stirrups and started to raise my leg over his back to dismount. A tremendous crash came from the barn, making Windsong leap in fright. I lost my balance, but because my feet weren’t in the stirrups anymore, I pushed off Windsong’s back and landed, stumbling in the soft footing of the arena and catching myself with my hands. “Spoke too soon.”

  Melinda’s voice carried across the arena to where I sat on my butt. “Sorry! I am such a klutz. No, I’ll pick up the rakes. Sorry, sorry.” She had a smirk on her face. Tripped, my foot! I glared at her.

  “Grab him! Grab him!” Kate yelled. My head whirled back to Windsong. I leapt to my feet and tried to snatch Windsong’s reins as he was backing away, but my sudden movement startled him more. He flung his head up and shuffled backward out of my reach. Then he took off, reins swinging in front of him. He dashed around the ring, holding his head high to avoid stepping on the dangling reins. When his eye fell on Kate, he swerved and skidded to a stop in front of her. She lifted the reins, holding one hand over her heart. “Can’t take your eyes off of this one for a second. I’m not sure this is a kid’s horse.”

  “He seems to like you, Kate,” Pete said. “That’s the best I’ve seen him behave. He definitely responds to you.”

  Kate rolled her eyes and handed the horse to Pete. “Said like a true salesman. I’m not looking for a horse. Jane is, and she’s just a kid.”

  Just a kid? I was going to be eighteen next month. She’s right though, I didn’t want this horse, although his power and responsiveness were incredible. I closed my eyes and imagined cantering down the centerline to a halt in a horseshow. Yeah, I would beat Melinda with this horse. My eyes popped open. If I survived training him.

  When Pete took the reins, Windsong’s jitters came back. Windsong pranced and startled sideways every couple of steps. Pete impatiently pulled the tack off and shoved Windsong in the stall.

  “Aren’t you going to brush him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, later.” Pete picked up the saddle and bridle and headed to the tack room.

  I pulled a couple of horse cookies out of my pocket and put my hand
through the bars of the stall. “Here you go, Windsong. Good boy.” I jiggled my hand. He stood against the back of the stall, eyeing me suspiciously. He didn’t come forward for the treats.

  “He’s not that friendly. I’m not sure he likes treats. We don’t give treats that much.” Pete shrugged his shoulders.

  “Come on, Jane. Let’s go. Pete, I’ll be in touch. Still shopping and all that.” Kate tossed a wave over her shoulder and started out to the truck.

  “Yeah, right. We’ll be in touch,” I said in a low voice, shaking my head and following her down the aisle. “Not gonna happen.”

  Kate put a finger on her lips, “Shhh.”

  “Right, maybe you should try out Peaches, the kid’s pony they’re selling. She’s perfect for pony rides,” Melinda stepped out of a stall we passed and slid the door shut. “More your speed.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I didn’t see you jumping up on Windsong. Have you ever ridden him?”

  “Wouldn’t catch me dead on that lunatic. Pretty sure walking on two legs isn’t a required dressage movement. On second thought, you should buy him,” Melinda laughed. “I do enjoy beating you.”

  She was infuriating. I never could think of a quick comeback to her little jabs.

  “Come on, Jane.” Kate rolled her eyes and pulled me forward. “Melinda, always nice to see you.”

  I hiked myself up into Kate’s white pickup truck, stepping on the running board, grabbing the handle over my head, and throwing myself onto the bucket seat. The pickup was meant for hauling horses and was higher than the average truck. Kate didn’t say anything, just started the engine and got turned around to head back out the driveway. I stared out the window, watching the black three-rail fence roll up and down the pastures next to the driveway as we passed. No horses grazed the dead, brown fields. It felt cold enough for snow, and the bare tree branches waved gently in the wind. I thought the performance horses most likely were being kept inside or close by the barn for the winter.

  When we reached the end of the drive, Kate looked over at me. “That horse was incredible. Not only is he better than Melinda’s horse, he’s better than the horses that made the team this year.”